Cursor's Canim
by WizardsGirl
Summary: Sentenced to Death through the Vale, Harry gets a very different result then Death. Sent to the world of Alera, with a different body, different name, and different destiny, can he help in the war against the Vord? Or will he be... Devoured? R&R SPOILERS!
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Hey, I got this stuck in my head, and decided to throw it out there. I don't own Harry Potter or the Codex Alera Series, but I love both a lot. If you've never read the CA series, it's by Jim Butcher, I suggest you go and check it out because, let me just say, AWESOME! 3

R&R plz!

Cursor's Canim

Prologue

"Harry James Potter, you are hereby sentenced to death via the Vale of Death, for the murders of Hermione Jane Granger, Ronald Bilious Weasley, Ginerva Rose Weasley, Auror Nymphadora Mariah Tonks, Kingsley Michael Shacklebolt, and countless others through negligence and recklessness in the place of command," Cornelius Fudge, once more the Minister thanks to the _convenient_ deaths of all those suitable to command, jeered from his place not thirty feet from me as I stood, silently, in the grips of the two Dementors. I felt myself smile thinly, but didn't make any noise.

They had tossed me straight into Azkaban, nearly before Voldemort's ashes had settled into the ground. No "Thank you for saving our sorry arses again, Harry" or even a "Good job, Potter". But what else could I expect from the turncoats and imbecile's that made up what remained of the Wizarding World, which had been fickle and tactless _before_ hundreds had died in the Dark Wizarding War. And now, nearly thirty years later, I stood unaged and unburdened for the first time in my life, sentenced to walk into the thing that had killed my Godfather all those years ago. I would forever look seventeen, unless some serious magic was done…

Or, at least, that's what the Dementor Queen told me once she had commanded her children to never feed from me. You see, Dementors themselves are beings of Death, and must bow down to its Master as every other being must, eventually bow down. I _really_ don't like being bowed to, though, and as Master of Death, thanks to the Deathly Hallows, I could keep them from doing it.

"You may enter the Vale on your own power, or be forced into it," Fudge called to me, sneering; I cocked my head and watched him with my glowing green eyes. I knew they glowed, because when you spent three decades in a pitch-black cell, you tended to notice the green light coming from your _face_.

"My own feet, thank you," I said hoarsely, smiling coldly. "You people have _helped_ quite enough." Immediately, without being ordered, the Dementors released me. I murmured a farewell to them in Parsletongue, and I loped slowly up the steps, pausing momentarily to close my eyes and listen to the whispers…

They sounded so pretty… And they told such fantastical stories as well… Smiling, I turned, waved at a much-aged Luna and Neville, and their thirteen-year-old daughter, Harriet, named after me, who was crying. I smiled softly at them, blew them a kiss, turned, and stepped into the Vale, falling forward into darkness…

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

There was warmth, in the beginning, and an embracing darkness that enveloped and held me close. Whispers flew past ears, and Harry Potter ceased to exist for a time. There was only my magic and the Darkness. It was not Death, merely a… pause. A moment when nothing moved, nothing breathed, nothing happened.

It was a moment that ended too soon for me, but, then, all moments come to an end too soon. All the goods ones, at least…

I could suddenly feel myself, my seventeen-year-old body. I felt it… Change. It roiled and shifted and shrunk to the will of Magic and Fate, and I shifted with it. My body became younger and younger, until I was once more an infant, though not as I had been all those years ago when Voldemort first came for me in Godric's Hollow. This was different. Better in some ways, as well.

And during all this, the Whispers sang to me their stories, and my new destiny was touched upon, briefly. I saw pictures of battle with people controlling elemental creatures called Furies. A battle between people with Furies, and savages with alien eyes and white hair, called the Marat. I saw hulking wolf-men and women, fighting, killing, mating, raising their pups. Canim. They fascinated me more then the others, and I felt a sort of kinship with them. Siri and Remus, they were like these seven-foot-and-bigger beings in a way. Remus, with his wolf, would have understood them better, I suppose, then Sirius and Snuffles could, but the sense of… Understanding, we'll call it, between these wolf-people, and myself, was strong, and growing stronger with my body's constant shifting.

Suddenly, the time came to leave the Darkness and the Whispers, and my Magic curled inside my new body, waiting patiently, and I reluctantly agreed. I was needed elsewhere now, for my future was carefully entwined with another's of this new world, this new land where I was being sent. This land of Furies and Cursor's and war and intrigue.

This world of Alera.

It was waiting for me, and I hoped that it was prepared, because it was going to get one hell of a surprise when I got there.

**A/N:** So, what's the verdict? I'll have the first chapter up in a bit, but, for now, this is just a teaser. R&R!


	2. Puppy Problems

**A/N:** Here's the first chapter! Tell me what you think about it. I am REALLY interested.

R&R!

Chapter One

Sunlight played across my lids, and scrunched my face, turning my head to get away from it, but that damn sun is persistent. So, reluctantly, I squinted my eyes open, blinking blearily up at the leaves that rustled high above me.

Yawning, I blinked, and realized with a sense of bemusement, that a short, rounded snout graced the lower part of my vision. Carefully, I pushed myself up, a startled whine escaping when the familiar pain of too-tired muscles pulsed through me. I huffed, the sound escaping my black nose adorably as I cocked my head. I carefully looked down and examined myself…

And found myself smiling ironically as my new body came into sight.

The bloody arses that love to fuck with me had made me into a bloody _puppy_. One of this worlds Canim, I suppose, but still. A _PUPPY_. Oh, Indignantly, thy poster child is I. Of course, I was an adorable puppy, if I did say so myself! …Which I did, just now, of course. Didn't you notice?

Anyways, my small body was covered in black fur, sprinkled with gray, as if I was already out of my prime and heading towards middle-aged. My five-fingered-claws were sharp and chubby with my child-body, the fur around the wrists gray as the sprinkles that curled through my glossy fur. I stroked my stomach and hummed at the soft feel, smiling. I love puppy fur…

Turning my head carefully, I took in the gray-tipped tail that swished slightly behind me in my bemusement, and then reached up to fiddle with the overly-large ears on my head. Finally, though, I got tired of examining my own body, and, once I made sure I was still a male (because, lets face it, I wouldn't put it past Fate to change _that_ about me too), I rolled onto all fours and wobblingly made my slow way towards a small stream that I heard nearby. When I reached it, having fallen only twice, I examined my new body in my reflection.

My snout was peppered in gray like age, and the tips of my ears were a pure white. I had white flecks around my eyes, and I cocked my head (an adorable picture, I assure you) when I saw how much _those_ had changed. My eyes, still the glowing, ethereal green they'd been before my change, were floating in a sea of red, with no white to be found, and a circle of turquoise around the pupil and outer edge of green. It was a rather…startling, change, to say the least, but surprisingly beautiful all the same.

I found myself reaching forward with one chubby paw, feeling a childish urge to smack at my reflection, and yelped when I promptly fell into the water, which was actually both deeper and faster then I'd originally thought. Desperately, I fought to keep my head above water as I was swept downstream and into a river, coughing and crying out in high-pitched barks and whines, unable to form an articulate word.

I fought and struggled, panicking in this new body, and swallowed more then a fair share of nasty river-water. I smashed into a rock, once, and scrabbled to hold it, but I was forced away. When a log brushed me, I scrabbled at it, clinging and coughing while still crying out, my new ears pinned hard to my head as I was carried away. I felt like a drowned rat, and probably looked like one too! I never ceased my crying, though, now a more instinctual thing dealing with the youth of my new body then anything else.

But, thankfully, that's probably what saved me.

I heard someone shout, and then the water around me suddenly came to life. It wrapped around me like a set of hands, and I was pulled from my makeshift raft and pulled swiftly from the center of the river, to land, where three people awaited me. Shivering, I keened wordlessly and curled in on myself, desperate for warmth, when the water released me. I shivered, fangs chattering together, tail and ears pinned close as I peered warily up at the three people.

A man, a woman, and a toddler were all staring at me, wide-eyed with shock/disbelief. The man was tall, broad, and thickly muscled. He reminded me of a lumberjack and Hagrid combined, his green eyes sharp and watchful, observant. He was about thirty, more or less, and stared down at me with an equal mix of bemusement and wariness, and a healthy dose of shock. He smelled like dirt and the forest, and I sensed an honorableness in him that endeared him to me.

The woman was pretty and looked like she was about seventeen, but looks, I know, can be deceiving. She was blond, with gray eyes, and cheeks rosy with health. She smelled like water and rain, and I knew it was her I had to thank for my rescue.

The toddler… was kind of cute, I'll admit. He was about two, maybe three, with mussed red-brown hair, wide, curious green eyes, and a cute, pudgy face. He smelled like the woman, and… well, everything, really. He smelled like ozone, and the river, and a forest, and ashes, and steel, and everything that made up the world, though something was muffling it… He stared at me and I stared at him, and then he squealed and waved his hands at me, reaching.

"Puppy!" he declared, clapping his hands and reaching. I shivered, the cold seeping into my skin now, and whined at them, eyes half-closing. I felt suddenly very, very tired…

"Stop, Tavi," the woman murmured sternly, before kneeling carefully. The man frowned worriedly.

"Isana," he cautioned, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Careful. That's a Cane pup, and they can pack a nastier bite then most beasts." I whined again in reply, and then closed my eyes, whimpering when the woman's gentle fingers rubbed at the fur between my ears. I winced, ears twitching, when the toddler, Tavi, patted me with the cheerful uncaring force of the toddler he was.

"Careful, Tavi, gentle," the woman, Isana, scolded and coaxed at the same time; the pudgy little hand returned, much softer, and carefully pat.

"Puppy sick?" the toddler asked; Isana hummed.

"Bernard, you need to carry him," she said instead, and I sensed her leaning away and standing up. The large man, Bernard, started to protest. "Brother," she interrupted, "he's a baby. Do you suggest we leave him to get killed by some predator, the Windmanes, or the river? Maybe starve to death out here all alone?" Silence, then an explosive sigh, before hands that were nearly as large as my entire _body_ gently lifted me and cradled me against a large, warm chest. I whined and snuggled exhaustedly close, relaxing into that warmth, soaking it into my very being.

It was very nice…very…comfortable…

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

I woke to the sound of a crackling fire, the smell of earth, and the feel of Tavi the Toddler wrapped around my and drooling on my arm. Blinked, I yawned, and it ended in one of those cute little whines puppies make. Lifting my head, I turned and looked at the blissfully dead-to-the-world child that had one of his pudgy hands clinging tightly to the fur on my back. I kind of hurt, but I could ignore it. What I couldn't ignore was that Tavi smelled like something sweet and meaty, and I found myself licking his face softly, sniffing at him.

"Stop that," Isana's voice scolded softly from nearby; I flinched, ears pinning back, and promptly laid my head down, eyes wide, startled. The pretty blond woman was watching with a blank, watchful face, and I whined, uncomfortable. Tavi shifted and snuggled closer, hiding his chubby face in my neck as the woman and I stared at one another. Instincts kept me from meeting her eyes longer then a few milliseconds, and I tentatively wagged my tail under her scrutiny, unsure if she was happy or angry with me.

Puppy-Instincts are strange, okay? No judging me.

"Do you have a name, little pup?" She asked after a few minutes of continuous staring. I lifted my ears, perked them forward as curiosity thrilled through me, and tilted my head, my cheek brushing against Tavi's fur. She smiled slightly, and nodded. "I didn't think so. Shall I name you?" I was starting to get tired again, and whined at her in reply. She smiled and continued to rock as I settled once more, eyes half-closed, just listening to the fire pop, the chair creak, and Tavi's soft breathing and steady, beating little heart.

"Jael," she finally murmured as I was starting to sleep. "You're name's Jael." And so Jael I became.

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

Twelve years passed, and I became a part of Bernardholt, where Isana and her brother Bernard were "Alpha" to my instincts. I was raised beside Tavi, and we grew together, though he remained very small, as I grew bigger. We were littermates, brothers, though no one seemed to like me much outside of the little family. I wasn't Aleran, and so I was treated like a monster even as I helped the whole Holt. No one but Tavi was truly close to me, and I was very careful around Bernard and Isana. The woman, with her control over water, I learned, was extremely empathetic, and it worried me at times, but mostly I just stayed with Tavi.

I learned how to use a bow, and hunted for the Holt while Tavi learned how to become a Sheep Herder. When he didn't come into his Furies after he turned ten, the Holt started to treat him differently to, though never really in front of Bernard. They called it freakish, and soon I had company in the "Freak" category in which I thrived. After all, no one wanted to mess with me, once I turned twelve and suddenly stood at nearly six feet, all muscle.

I was quick to learn that I looked older then I was, and many assumed that I was weaker. I used that to my advantage, and made myself a cloak from the hide of a massive bear that I hunted and killed with my own claws. I dyed my cloak red with berries, and was from then on seen with my face obscured, my body hunched over, and my claws grasping an old oak branch that suited me as a walking stick. I used my Hallows', still with me though now combined beneath my skin, to help me in my endeavor. Soon, I could seem to simply disappear into thin air; my steps and movements silent as the grave, my scent changing with the wind. I always hit my target exactly where I wanted it to, my sharp, Canim eyes granting me farther sight and more accuracy then even the woodcrafter's, whose specialty was in stealth and accuracy with an arrow. I outpaced them all, and soon, Bernardholt decided that I was merely a tool, and ignored me.

Tavi and I became very close friends, and he told me everything, from smallest thought to biggest fear. It made me feel good, to be able to help him in such a way, and I always listened when I knew it was what he needed, and spoke for the same reason. It got to the point that the sheep no longer fled in terror from my scent, as they did in the beginning, because they were now so used to my scent on Tavi that it was second nature for them to just ignore me.

Fade, the scarred simpleton that worked in the small forge in the barn, was someone who made me nervous. He smelled so strongly of steel, that I knew he was hiding his true potential, although the brand of a coward that mutilated half of his face could explain it, but I got the feeling something else entirely was going on. I left him alone, though, because he cared for Tavi and Isana, and respected Bernard. I just didn't get too close to him.

Yawning, I sat, invisible, on the roof of the main building, watching the sunset as I scratched my much longer and narrower snout. Tavi was down below, and I watched the pretty girl who worked on the Holt murmur flirtations into his ear and play on his hormones to get him to do what she wanted. I felt my lips lift slightly, baring pearly white fangs as Tavi blushed scarlet and fell to the girls whims. He looked around, and ran stealthily away in search of something. Silently, I stood and leaped down, becoming visible as I rounded the corner of the house, hunched and moving with the jerky, erratic movements of the old and decrepit. The girl, smirking slightly now, blinked, startled, as I approached her.

"Hello, child," I murmured, voice hoarse and quiet. "How are you this evening." She watched me warily, knowing what I was, but feeling safe in the knowledge that I was obviously old and therefore harmless. Sometimes, people are so stupid, and she was one of those stupid people. Honestly, I was _younger_ then she was, and she had forgotten that!

"I'm doing very well, grandfather," she said with a cheerful grin. "I just asked Tavi to go and collect something for me," she told me; I smiled inside my warm cloak, and it was a feral smile that she couldn't see in the dark shadows.

"Best be careful whom you play with, girl," I told her gently, fangs still bared viciously. "For one day, you just might find yourself all alone and barren from lack of trustful friends. Remember that," I said, growling lowly, angrily as my eyes glowed out at her, watching blood drain from her face, "next time you decide to toy with my brother's heartstrings. Have a nice night," I said, grinning, before hobbling away.

I slipped into the main house and down into the cellar, where my bed sat in one dank, dark corner, a mere nest of animal pelts and homemade pillows. I'd made them from rabbit furs, and stuffed them with wild herbs and grasses, so that my bed smelled like a mixture of old Death and the forest. I really liked my bed…

Humming softly, I scooped up my self-made bow and quiver of arrows, and made my way upstairs, leaving my walking stick there. Isana nodded at me tiredly as she left, and I tilted my held, baring some of my throat, and nodded in return. The bared throat was instinctual, because she was the Alpha Female in the Bernardholt Pack, as my Canim mindset called it. Silently, invisibly, I disappeared into the night, and went hunting for my dinner.

It was a good night for pheasant…

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

"Jael?" Tavi called from the cellar door. I licked blood from my snout and let out a small, acknowledging bark to show I heard him. He padded down the step and squinted in the dark, so I turned up the small, ancient lamp at my side. Unlike the furylamp, I didn't need to call upon the small fire-furies within it, as there were none. It was just a simple kerosene lamp. As he gratefully padded over to flop down on my nest next to me, I finished eating the third pheasant I'd gotten myself for dinner. Upstairs, the smell of the fourth and fifth ones cooking was nice and delicious.

"Do you think Uncle Bernard will be mad at me?" he asked quietly; I licked blood once more from my snout, and pulled a feather from the neat pile next to me, where I'd plucked my meal. Feathers are hard to swallow; did you know that?

"I think," I told him, voice settled in a medium baritone; not as deep as Bernard's, but not high. It was startling but nice, seeing as how I was technically only fifteen. "I think he will be disappointed, when he finds out you didn't bring in the rest of the flock because you were busy getting holly berries for that girl." I smiled as his eyes widened and his cheeks turned bright red.

"How did you-" he stopped and sighed explosively. "Nevermind. You always know everything that happens in the Steadhold." I smiled at him, baring teeth, and chuckled.

"How else do I protect my Packmates, hmm?" I asked, rolling my large head so that the tendons in my neck popped. He sighed and flopped back on my nest, exposing throat and belly. I growled at him, and he blinked, realized his position, and quickly sat up with a sheepish smile, careful not to show teeth. I'd made sure, early on, that he knew what postures he could hold and which ones he couldn't, because of my instincts. It's one of the reasons I avoided everyone else as much as possible. They tended to do things that, to my instincts, were meant as challenges, and my first reaction is to attack and beat them into submission.

"Sorry," he murmured; I nodded, and we sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smell of dirt that filled the cellar. Finally, Tavi said goodnight and went upstairs, and I stuffed the pheasant feathers into a bag before I laid down to got to sleep. I would need to disappear into the forest for a few days in the morning, as people from all the nearby Steadholds would be by tomorrow, to get Isana, the strongest watercrafter in all of the 'holts, to do a Truth Scrying on some boy accused of rape.

Curled up, tail across my snout, I yawned once, closed my emerald-turquoise eyes, and fell asleep with dreams filled with memories of my previous life, and the last fifteen years of this one.

**A/N:** Aaaaaaand, CUT! So? Waddaya think?


	3. Irritating Whelps

**A/N:** Here's the next Chappy. I own all things not in the book, though, technically Jael, or who/where he's from, is owned by JKR…

Still…

_**R&R!**_

Chapter Two

I woke to itching fur, an ominous sign of trouble. Growling, I dug my claws through my pelt and itched, irritated, then shook myself and pulled on my cloak, breathing in the smell of dirt, moistening. A rolling pulse through my magic and the Hallows made itself known, and I scowled as the Great Fury Garados, the nearby mountain, made his presence known along with his Storm-Fury-wife, Lilvia, who cooed and dragged her talon-like fingers along my magic like she was petting me. Creepy Furies… Their ancient and powerful minds sent me images and impressions, and I scowled slightly.

"A bad Furystorm," I muttered, shaking furiously, trying to rid myself of the strange, alien feel of the Furies consciousnesses. They liked to poke and prod at me, and I could use their powers if I wished, but I preferred my Canim strength and speed, my mind, and what I could do with my magic. I didn't trust using wild Furies. And now I knew if I was going to go out at all, I'd have to return before the storm. I _loathe_ Windmanes.

You saw how Lilvia liked to drag her talons through my magic, yes? Windmanes, vicious, nasty wind-Furies known to rend and tear their prey to shreds and _eat_ them, like me for some bizarre reason. The first time I was caught in a Furystorm, they spent the entire time _petting_ me.

Like I said before: Creepy Furies.

Huffing, I loped up the stairs, bow and arrows on my back, walking stick in hand, and was just in time to watch Bernard lead Tavi off to collect the rest of the sheep. Cautiously, I shook my head, then padded to the kitchen area, where old Bitte was shuffling her crooked old body around, preparing for breakfast. I made sure my entire body was covered; paws included, and pushed the door open.

"I am going hunting," I whispered hoarsely; the old woman nodded, recognizing my growling baritone. "Anything in particular I should hunt for?"

"A nice girl to settle down with," the old woman replied blithely. I grimaced, wrinkling my nose. Girls… _Aleran_ girls. We weren't even the same _species_, literally.

"I'm _twelve_, Bitte," I drawled, leaning against the doorframe, knowing it made me look even older. She chuckled and shook one gnarled hand at me.

"And Tavi was out getting hollybells for Beritte just last night, and he's not three years your elder." I blinked. So _that_ was her name… And holly_bells_. The flowers. Not the berries. A sign of fertility and that she was ready for more… adult, attentions…

That girl was too young for that!

…

Skank.

…

"I'm going hunting now," I told the old woman abruptly, turned, and nearly ran into Isana. I bit back a yelp and fought not to straighten to my full height of six-foot-two. I bowed my head to her, and she nodded, before slipping past me to help Bitte. I hurried out and into the predawn, becoming invisible as soon as I touched the air outside of the building.

Immediately, I crouched low and began to lope, powerful muscles taking me to speeds that could outrun most horses, tongue lolling out as I grinned. Sometimes, if I tapped into the ambient energies and wild Wind Furies, I could fly, literally, but otherwise this was as close as I got. Biting back a howl of delight, I threw myself into this morning's hunting's.

It would be a good day, Crows take it, before the bad came to ruin anything!

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

I returned at noon with a dozen plump rabbits and three pheasants over one shoulder, and a new deer pelt to add to my nest. Eying the three new males in my territory, I bit back a snarl. Kord and his two boys, Aric and Bittan. The youngest, Bittan, was the one accused of rape, and his father was the kind of man who'd pat him on the back and say "Don't get caught, do what ye will". Aric was a better sort, but he still obeyed his father's word like law. That, at least, my instincts approved of.

Alpha's word _was_ law.

But none of that stopped me from wanting to stalk forward, grab the lot of them up, and toss them in the river to let the Great River-Fury Nereus eat them. Grinning viciously at the thought, I made a show at shuffling past them all, nodding at the large, animal-friendly boy, known as Fred (though he's really, technically Fredrick Junior or the Younger Fredrick.) and edged around the lazing Bittan and Kord.

At least Aric was being useful and working off what nervous energy he had by chopping wood!

…Though, why he would be nervous when his younger brother was the one accused of rape and his father was the one who'd get in trouble, I have no idea. Maybe he just didn't like being away from Kordholt? Oh well. Humming, I padded into the kitchen and inclined my head deeply to Isana where she sat, tending to the oven, next to the skank-I, I mean, next to Beritte, who was dressed to draw the man's eye to her growing breasts and round hips…

Creepy Aleran girls with their creepy flowers…

"There's talk of a Furystorm tonight, Jael," Isana told me, occasionally glancing into her scrying bowl, where her Water-Fury, Rill, sat patiently waiting to be called. I nodded and set about smoothly plucking the pheasants.

"Aye, Ms. Isana," I replied hoarsely. "Lord Garados and Lady Lilvia woke me this morn to tell me of it." Beritte look at me, eyes huge.

"What are you talking about, grandfather?" She demanded; I gave her a darkly amused look.

"Children should be seen, not heard," I said with dry irony, sharing my amusement with Isana. It would help soothe the rising tension I felt in the powerful Watercrafter. I pitied them, sometimes, for their intense empathy… Beritte flushed and I chuckled and took pity on _her_. "The Great Furies take a liking to me; they like to show off and try to tell me things that will make me like them better than the others." She stared at me, huge-eyed and gape-mouthed. I finished plucking the pheasants and set them into a nearby pot of water, which Isana had me immediately set on the stove.

It would take a while to cook, but that was the point, as the feast was tonight. I listened as she spoke with Beritte, and asked where she'd gotten the hollybells, though I knew my Alpha Female already knew. Beritte and Isana got snappish, and I winced and boiling steam roared through the room as Beritte pushed too far and her emotions mixed with Isana's own. My skin burning where the hot steam touched, I carefully turned and lowered my hood, watching my Alpha as she calmed herself and closed her eyes once Beritte ran from the room sobbing in terror. Moving cautiously, crouched low, I crawled forward and hesitantly set my head against her hip.

Startled, she looked down at me, then sighed and set her hands on my head, fingers digging in lightly behind my still slightly-too-big ears. I murmured in pleasure, sagging to my knees in the water that she was now making clean the floor, and curled against her as she calmed. I loved getting my ears scratched, and it was a weakness I was rarely given a chance to give into. Only Isana used it, or Tavi when we both needed comfort. After a few minutes, she stopped, and I shuffled backwards on my knees and waited until she nodded and turned away, before I stood and returned to my rabbits, smoothly skinning four of them and shoving them, two each, on a spit.

Isana refilled the water in all the pots that she had boiled over. She took the bread from the oven as I spitted all but three of the rabbits, which I skinned and calmly set about eating, though merely three hours before I'd finished off the last of the deer I'd caught. I was always hungry, always burning energy, and always glad that I could make do with small meals spread out throughout the day. I watched, a faint tingle of itchiness rolling through my fur, as Isana checked on Bernard and Tavi using her Water Fury.

Something bad was going to happen…

Suddenly, the smell of anger and violence rose from outside, and a surge of bloodlust had me fighting down a snarl. Isana flinched and I winced, murmuring an apology as Isana braced herself against the onslaught of negative emotions and I fought the bloodlust down firmly by hurriedly tearing into the last of my three rabbits with unnecessary force. It helped, and some of the tension left her as we stood to go outside. The holdfolk were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the center of the courtyard, and I fought down another surge of bloodlust at the scent of rage and tension in the air.

There was a battle brewing…

"Kord," Isana murmured, and I sniffed, unsurprised as we moved forward. I walked behind her so that the onlookers, who made a small path, wouldn't have to move even wider, in case one of the combatants decided to try and make a break for it… If they made it more than ten feet, I'd be on them, and I wouldn't have to worry about my next meal, because Bernard would kill me for _eating_ someone on his land.

Two men stood facing each other. Kord stood with his arms folded over his chest, the ground at his feet shifting and trembling. His greasy beard framed his smile sharply, and his eyes were bright and eager beneath his heavy brows. He wasn't an extremely tall man, but his shoulders looked too big for him, his brawny arms too long, and everything about him was unkept and reminded me of someone who'd spent a few months in a cell in Azkaban…

The man across from his was Steadholder Warner, a tall, slender man, with gangly limbs and a shiny, bald head that boasted a fringe of wispy gray hair. His narrow, chiseled face was flushed bright red in rage, and the air around him quivered and danced like heat rising off an oven…

That being said, I don't think his paternal rage could stand up to Kord's cruel violence in a true battle. If this battle of wills became a battle of Furies, my money went on Kord the Earthcrafter… Not that I would allow it to get that far, because Isana would not want it, and what the Alpha Female wants when she's stressed like she is, _she gets_.

End of story.

"All I'm saying," Kord drawled, "is that if that little slut of yours can't keep her legs together and men out from between them, it's your problem, friend. Not mine."

"Why you…" Warner spat; he took a step forward, and the air around the courtyard grew detectably warmer. I blinked. Like I said; Kord had Warner beat in cruelty, and now he had him beat in comebacks. Kord was a Slytherin with Gryffindor stubbornness. It would have been inspiring if I didn't want to drown the bastard in gargant feces every time I saw his putrid face. Kord smiled then, a flash of teeth.

"Go ahead, Warner," he said. "Call it to _juris macto_. Let's settle this like men. Unless you'd rather humiliate your little whore by having her testify how she seduced my boy in front of every Steadholder in the Calderon Valley." See what I mean? Damn ruthless, that Kord, but clever, very clever. One of Warner's sons, tall and lean with hair shorn in a Legion-fashion, stepped up to his father and took his arm.

"Pa, don't," He said. "You can't take him on in a fair fight." I agreed silently as the other two took up a spot behind Warner, while Kord's sons mirrored them behind their own father. Warner's daughter rushed to his side. Her name, if I remembered correctly, was Heddy. Her hair was cobweb-fine, a gorgeous yellow wave that rose and rippled in the heated air around her father. She threw a conscious look around her, her face flaming scarlet with embarrassment.

"Papa," she urged. "No, not like this. This isn't our way." I frowned, sniffing the air, and eyed her in confusion. She didn't smell like Bittan at all, not like she would have if he really _had_ raped her. Confused, I watched as her eyes darted to Kord and his sons… most importantly, the older one… and suddenly, it all came together. Aric's nervous energy, why Bittan's scent wasn't on her, why _Aric's scent was_, and why there was _definitely_ no smell of pain.

Bloody Crows, they'd had sex out of wedlock, Warner knew _that_ but not _who,_ and only way to keep her safe from public scorning or whatever these idiot Aleran's did about women who Met-the-Bed-Before-the-Band, was to claim rape… Not that I had any doubt Bittan _hadn't_ raped anyone… Kord snorted at the girl.

"Bittan," h asked, glancing back at the irritating whelp. "You stuck your wick in that skinny tramp? Might as well have gone after one of Warner's sheep." I watched with a flash of bemused amusement as Aric's fists clenched tightly at his sides. I tensed along with Isana, for different reasons. She was being overwhelmed by the emotions; I was being overwhelmed by my instincts. The anger, rage, fury, of Warner mixed with his daughter's panic and humiliation, and saliva pooled in my mouth. Bittan especially wasn't helping, the irritating whelp's lust for violence fueling my own. I concentrated on Garados, and the Great Fury smugly obliged me, taking my emotions and grounding them, steadying me, while send a harsh, firm rumbled through the ground, out from my feet, and sending Kord and Warner to the ground on their arses, emotions immediately changing to shock as they turned to stare at me.

Isana took a careful breath and placed a hand on my shoulder, and I nodded at her and walked forward with her, putting a deliberate, old-man shuffle to my steps. Only Bernardholt knew of my true age and appearance, though they tended to ignore that and pretend I was the old man I acted like, so this would work in my favor…

"Gentlemen," Isana said, voice ringing out as the two proud men scrambled to their feet, Warner once more glaring daggers; Kord once more daring he start a duel. "You are interrupting lunch." Garados rumbled in my head, and I struggled to not let him open a hole to swallow Kord and his sons up and crush them, against my better judgment. Isana would not want that, I informed him, and left it at that. He seemed to sulk, but allowed it, making the ground roll and curl around my feet instead. Warner had taken a step towards Kord, eyes now locked and never wavering from the other Steadholder.

"You can't expect me to stand here and take this," he said; I felt a flash of rage on Isana's behalf.

"Then by all means, _sit_," I snapped; The ground surged under him and Kord both, and they fell once more onto their butts, only this time I allowed the dirt to swallow their arms and legs, from hand to elbow and foot to knee, and a thick band of granite wrapped around their sternums, pinning their middles to the ground. There was a stunned silence, then Isana sighed.

"Jael," She scolded; my ears pinned back but I refused to apologize. "Release them," she ordered; I hesitated, and she turned frosty, warning eyes on me. I reluctantly obeyed, Garados and me both grumbling this time, the Mountain-Fury making the ground rumble in his displeasure.

"As you wish, ma'am," I muttered. Kord sent a vicious glare my way, then sauntered a little toward Warner when they both stood, unharmed but for a bruised pride.

"_Juris macto_," he said, "Just declare it, Warner, and we can settle this." Isana whirled; meeting his eyes squarely, a clear challenge to his Alpha-status according to my instincts.

"Not in _my_ courtyard you won't." Bittan let out a rough laugh and stepped forward, towards my Alpha Female. For that alone, I would have killed him, _gladly_.

"What we got here? Another little hold whore standing up for whore Heddy?" Rage, all-consuming, slammed through me, and those of Bernardholt who knew of my temper when it came to my Alpha's and Tavi _literally_ threw themselves from my path. Before Kord could say "Bittan" and Isana could shout "Jael" I had the insubordinate pup held up off the ground, standing at my full-height, body still covered from head-to-toe. To anyone who didn't know of my Cane status, it would have appeared as if I had suddenly shot up and grown two feet in two seconds. I didn't care.

Bittan was choking as I held his throat, beating ineffectually at my arm and scrabbling at my claws. I watched emotionlessly, suddenly feeling blank and cold, as his face started to turn red, then steadily darker. Isana appeared at my side, watching as well, then turned her attention to Kord and Warner.

"Bitch," Kord growled, stepping forward; the ground before him rolled in a weak imitation of what I had done earlier and, with a negligent twitch of my hand, I used Garados's strength and had the man's Fury swiftly beaten into submission and left him powerless on that front. He went pale, and I nodded to Isana.

"He's all yours, ma'am," I said calmly; she nodded.

"Bitch," Kord snarled again; she gave him a frosty, patient look. I felt a surge of smug pride; this was _my_ Alpha Female.

"Go ahead Kord," she said, voice icy. "But before you do, I should remind you that you are on Bernardholt, now. And you may _not _challenge me to the _juris macto_." Her smile bared teeth, and if she'd been a Cane, her fangs would have flashed, pretty, dainty, and dangerous as the rest of her. "I'm not a Steadholder."

"I can still kill you, Isana," Kord said; I snorted softly, and she cocked her head slightly in my direction.

"You could," she agreed idly. "But then, there'd be no-one to call of Jael here, as he only listens to Bernard and me."

"And what if I could use one less mouth to feed?" Kord asked, baring his teeth in a very canine-way; I nearly dropped the whelp in order to go and rip the idiots head off, but my Alpha Female was working and besides, the whelp couldn't say stupid things when he was turning blue…

"In that case," Isana continued, "I hope you're prepared to die. I'd have said be prepared to kill everyone here, as they wouldn't let you get away with a cold murder, but," she gestured at me and I slowly, deliberately, turned my head and let the green of my eyes glow eerily out of my hood at him. "Well, Jael is a very protective, possessive person. He'd torture you to death if you killed me, then he'd probably go to your 'Holt and massacre everyone there. Bernard and I have kept him on a tight leash, you could say, since we've practically raised him ourselves…" I let the ground rumble to cover up my throaty, bloodthirsty growl, and Kord still shuddered minutely.

"Kill Isana," I said, baritone throaty and harsh with eager hunger, "and there won't be anywhere in the Realm that you could hide…" Isana nodded, then whirled on Warner and snapped, eyes snapping with her,

"Wipe that smile off your face, Steadholder. What kind of behavior is this to show my holders, and their _children_?" She stalked towards Warner with a scowl twisting her features, I relaxed my hold enough that the now unconscious whelp didn't die, and shifted my grip to a simple hold, like I would any naughty pup, and watched my Alpha Female with frank admiration.

"I'll have your word that you won't engage in this idiocy again while you're a guest in my home." She ordered sternly.

"But Isana," Warner protested, his sons and him never taking their eyes from Kord and Aric, and occasionally glancing at the unconscious Bittan. "That animal in your holder's grip is the one who raped my daughter."

"Papa," Heddy sobbed, tugging Warner's sleeve. "Papa, please."

"Your _word_, Warner," Isana snapped. "Or I'll rule against you in the truthfind here and now." I bared my teeth in a vicious smile, and shook Bittan when he made a hoarse moan, half-waking. I growled at him and he quieted, back into unconsciousness as Warner's eyes snapped to Isana, filled with shock and surprise.

"But Isana-"

"I don't _care_. You can't behave this way in my home, Warner, and my brother isn't here to knock some sense your fool head. Your word. No more of this duel nonsense. No more fighting in Bernardholt." I took a deep breath through my nose as Warner stared at her. He reeked of anger, dismay, and helpless frustration. I wondered, if I went back to strangling Bittan, and did it quietly, would Isana get angry with me if he died?

…Probably…

"All right," he said quietly, visibly softening after looking at his daughter. "My word. For all of us. We'll start nothing." Isana nodded, whirled, and stalked towards Kord and me, and I reluctantly began to lower the unconscious whelp, muttering as I carelessly dropped him, turning and promptly seeming to 'shrink' back into my huddled Old Man self. She sent me a stern look, but gently brushed my arm as she passed to touch the unconscious whelps forehead. I felt some of my disappointment at not killing Bittan melt away. I'd made the Alpha Female feel better.

All was mostly right in the world.

"I suppose you're going to want my word as well." Kord sneered down at my Alpha, and I was ready to send him sprawling, but held back in case he lashed out at Isana.

"What would be the point," Isana snapped, keeping her voice low. "You're scum, Kord, and we both know it." She stood and nodded at me, then the main house. I inclined my head as she turned towards the kitchen.

"This isn't over, Isana," Kord promised suddenly, his voice very quiet. "I won't stand for this." My fur itched viciously and I bit back a shudder. Isana paused, and I frowned as I felt Kord reaching towards his Earth-Fury. Garados kept the tiny thing (compared to him, that is) locked beneath his power, and I sent out a warning ripple towards the Aleran. He glared at me, eyes full of that cold, icy anger. Ooh, I'd made an enemy…

Yay me!

"You'd best hope it's over, Kord," Isana said, her voice just as cold, as calculating, as his own, and I knew she was reflecting his own anger back at him. "Or you're going to think what happened to Bittan was a kindness." She glanced at me and I cocked my head at her, curious, then she looked back at him. "There's a space for you in the barn. I'll have some food sent down for lunch. We'll call you at dinner." Kord remained still for a moment. Then, he spat on the ground, nodded to his sons, and stalked away towards the barn. Aric followed, hauling the irritating whelp Bittan to his feet and after their father. I watched them go, then moved over to Isana while she snapped at everyone to get to work.

"I think I'll go out into the woods for a while, Ms. Isana," I told her softly; she looked at me, then silently nodded.

"Careful of the Windmanes," she ordered me. "They may have liked you last time, but they may just decide to eat you tonight." I chuckled and nodded, then padded into the kitchen, where I grabbed my bow, my arrows, and my deer pelt as well as all the feathers and rabbit furs. Moving to the mane building, I padded downstairs to my nest and stuffed the feathers into the feather bag, and tossed the furs about, until I was happy with where they were set.

That done, I was up the stairs, out of the building, and

Heading towards the trees. I paused, though, and watched the slave Fade talk with Isana… Or, well, Isana talk to Fade. He was nearly as creepy as the Creepy Furies…

Shaking my head, I turned my attention to the forest, and slid into it, disappearing. I needed to work off some tension, and get rid of some bloodlust, and I highly doubted Bernard would let me eat Kord and his sons…or maybe just Bittan and Kord. Aric was okay, for an arse…

Huffing, I sank into the hunting mindset, and began to lope through the trees. Blood needed shedding, and flesh needed tearing. And then, maybe, I'd feel a little more alive…

**A/N:** Ta-Da, and here's an update! Isn't it a rare sight indeed?

O_O

R&R


	4. Storm Chats

**A/N:** And here's chapter number three! Quite a bit longer then the other ones…FOR GOOD REASON!

So just enjoy the damn thing…

ALSO! There was a typo in chapter One, Puppy Problems.

Jael is NOT FIFTEEN!

He is TWELVE.

There. All cleared up now.

_**R&R!**_

Chapter Three

Blood dripped from my muzzle. Gore hung from my jaws as they snapped on the tender intestines of the doe I'd caught. My claws were in a similar condition, buried in her side, helping to scoop out the organs and inner-tissues. My stomach bulged slightly, and I knew that, after this, I would be truly full for the rest of the day, and a rumble of pleasure escaped as I jerked my head back, gulping down a mouthful of liver.

Twilight had fallen minutes before, and night, with the Furystorm, would arrive in minutes. I'd have to finish quickly, and decide where to stay for the night. I'd gotten too caught up in my hunting, earlier, and was too far away from Bernardholt to make it before the storm hit…

I stilled as the bushes to the right of me rustled, and focused my Tricolored eyes on them, nose flaring. I scented wolf, a bitch, pregnant and injured. I growled lowly when she pushed through, and we eyed one another as she ducked down submissively. Her fur was tawny colored, her eyes amber. Her belly bulged, and old injuries licked up her left side. It looked like she'd gotten on the wrong side of a thorn bush…or something with some nasty claws. She also looked hungry. She crawled forward, ears pinned, eyes down, tail tucked close, and I growled but allowed her close as I continued my meal, watching her.

I made sure a handful of organs were near her, and watched critically as she devoured it cautiously, before crawling closer to my carcass. I rumbled a growl lowly, and she stilled with a soft whine, before I sniffed her, and she rolled over with difficulty, exposing her much tenderer belly. I placed my gory claws on her stomach, then growled at her, once, before nipping her exposed throat and letting her up, ignoring her. If the silly Direwolf wanted to share my meal, she could. That didn't mean she could get away with anything, though.

It took some maneuvering around the hungry, pregnant bitch, but I managed to get the deer pelt off mostly intact before she tore into what remained. I spread it out and lifted my nose to the wind, yawning hugely and flopping down to lie on my side, my cloak rustling around me as my tail wagged lightly, eyes half-closed.

Life was good…

Except for the irritating itching in my fur, that had gotten steadily worse all day, only to slowly taper off the lower the sun got in the sky. Even now, it itched, but not bad enough it couldn't be ignored. I sighed, rose to all fours, and dragged my new pelt with me, away from the carcass and feeding she-wolf, to the stream that sat nearby. With a growl, soft and humming in my chest, I called on the wild Furies there and they swirled around me, rinsing the blood and gore from my body and cloak. As soon as I no longer smelled the delicious, ripe scent of the doe's insides on me, I thanked the Furies and released them, and they left me barely damp. I glanced up, watching the dark clouds cover the sky, and listened, ears twitching, free of my hood, as thunder rumbled as ominous as Garados himself.

It would be one Crows-be-damned _bad_ Furystorm…

I huffed, and turned, folding the pelt and shoving it into the large pocket I'd made inside of my cloak for this sort of occasion. My ambient magic would work its skin into soft, buttery leather, flexible and smooth. I'd tried, honestly, to learn the proper way to tan skins, but I'm no good at it. My magic was a much faster, easier, and more efficient way to get it done, without tiring me, as, like the wild Furies, the magic that flowed around the outside of my body was aimed to please.

I calmly started in the direction of the Princeps Memorium, where I'd take shelter for the night. It was a mile or two to the east, and I'd make it there, probably well after the rains started, but before the climax of the storm. The Windmanes would probably be delighted I was out and about for a time, and very irked when I went into the protected tomb, but… It was something they'd have to deal with.

A soft _woof_ at my side made my ear twitch, and I paused, claws tightening briefly on my oak staff… And didn't that sound all Merlin of me? Dismissively, I glanced down, eyes narrowing slightly on the bloody-mouthed pregnant Direwolf. I growled at her in warning, and she fell back a few steps, low to the ground in supplication. Satisfied, I huffed, and allowed her to follow. I sent my magic out to curl protectively around her and, most importantly, around the whelps in her womb. If she was going to be a nuisance, then I wasn't going to let her be a stupid one. Carefully, I slid my magic into her mind, and, as we walked and the sky darkened, began to shift her thought process, just enough.

It was a special kind of Dark Magic, taught to me in Azkaban, by a man named Straufford. He'd been sentenced to the Kiss three days before my sentence, so we'd had plenty of time to get to know one-another as across-the-hall cell-neighbors. I shivered at the reminder of the Wizarding Prison, and pushed the Harry Potter memories back a little ways, so that they weren't as sharp. I was Jael now, Crows take you; that part of me no longer held sway in my life…Well, for the most part, anyways.

I finished shifting the bitch's mind as, with a flash of lightening, and a roar of thunder that made Garados roar back in instinctual challenge, the frigid wave of sleet fell upon the world, turning everything around me to an icy gray. I grimaced, and the Direwolf and I ducked our heads and pinned our ears at the same time, just as the freezing, unfriendly wind came howling like a demon down from the mountain. The Windmanes would soon be upon us, and I gave a sharp, commanding yip to my silent, now-shivering companion, accompanied with a sharp gesture of my free claw. She immediately stepped forward, pressing against my legs, in search of reassurance and warmth.

I narrowed my eyes against the wind, and lifted my head to release a howl of my own: an eerie counter-tune to the song Lilvia was so happily playing across the Valley. Instantly, the wind and sleet around us lessoned, and the air warmed and shifted, shielding us from the worse of the hail. I grunted, pleased, and the magics and wild Furies I'd called upon to do so pulsed with pride at my acknowledgement.

"Come, Acacia," I growled, placing my hand on the Direwolf's head. She looked up at me, and woofed her consent, meekly coming to heel as I moved onward. She was shivering, and I had what weak Fire-Furies I could use, at the moment, concentrate on drying and warming her, egging them on with silent praise and murmurs of my magic. The she-wolf sighed and stopped shivering soon after, settling more calmly against me as we continued.

It wasn't twenty minutes later that she stiffened with a frightened whine, and I growled a wolfish command for silence, obeyed immediately, even as her heartbeat fluttered against my leg. The Windmanes shrieked and swooped out of the slashing gray blackness, swirling around us. I snapped my teeth through the arm of one who attempted a grab at the newly named Acacia, and the Fury, unharmed, did not try so again. They contented themselves with stroking my ears and head in passing, touching my cloak, sending it swirling around my body in a frigid blast of air.

Damn creatures would freeze me to death, if this continued, and I couldn't afford to take my weak wild Fire-Furies from Acacia. She was pregnant, and already wounded. She needed the protection against the elements for more then I did… So, I took the brunt of the Windmanes attentions, grimacing as I forced my legs on through the numbing mud.

I had to carry Acacia up two steep slopes, grimly moving forward, the Windmanes helping as much they could with their winds. Still, by the time the fires of the Princeps Memorium caught my nose, long before my eyes, I was faintly trembling, cloak protecting me from most of the rain, but not the temperature. Acacia was now cradled in my arms, exhausted, paws bleeding and too numb for her to feel. I'd covered her head with my cloak, and she nuzzled my chest as I pushed onward, grunting as one of the Windmanes helpfully scrapped my hood up to cover my head and face. Magic enabled my sight unblocked, and so I continued unhindered, oak staff held awkwardly as I went, until I finally reached the Memorium.

The dome of polished marble rose from the slope of its hill to the height of three Aleran men. Its open entryway glowed with a soft, golden light, beckoning me with the promise of its warm, Furycrafted fires. Above the entryway, writ into the marble in gold was the seven-pointed star of the First Lord of Alera… Not that I gave a damn about that. I just wanted to get warm again.

Sighing, a rumbling sound that began deep in my chest, I released what weak Furies I'd gathered around Acacia and I, thanking them and caressing them with my magic, making them preen importantly like canary-catching cats, before they zoomed off into the night. Instantly, the true power of the storm slammed into me, and I shuddered, huddling my body protectively between the falling hail, sleet, rain, and howling wind, and my burden. I gave the Windmanes a gentle push of my magic, making one croon, one shriek, and a few more hiss, before they all swerved off into the night, to likely take their disappointment and irritation out on local wildlife and idiots out in the storm.

Groaning with relief, I stepped into the Memorium, and the powerful Furies that protected it welcomed me like an old friend. Water sloughed off me, ice melting from my fur and cape, and mud fell to the ground. Soon, I was dry and pleasantly warm, and Acacia was as well, sighing softly in relief as she blinked and lifted her head from my cloak. I looked around, and froze, blinking slowly, at the sight before me, startled. Carefully, I set Acacia down, and she limped three steps behind me, while following me to the two shapes.

One was a girl, who watched me with sharp, but exhausted eyes. A Wind-Fury rolled tiredly around her, and I sniffed as I saw the slave collar braided around her neck. I _loathed_ slavery, something I and Tavi sometimes had words on. He didn't like it, but it was a way of life for him. Harry Potter had been a slave of one kind or another, though. I knew the feel of a collar, even when invisible, and just how chokingly tight the one who held your leash could pull, until you felt you'd suffocate, but knew you wouldn't be allowed such a mercy.

The slave-girl clutched a blade, shining in the firelight, and shivered in the cold, and I tilted my head, eying her carefully. She was slender and tall, not unlike Isana, and her skin was a dark, golden brown. Her hair was straight and fine, even tangled and wet like it was, and looked nicely with her features. She wasn't exactly pretty, but striking, yes, with high cheekbones and a long, slender nose, softened by a generous mouth. She was wrapped in one of the red capes of the stone sentries. I could admit, even though Aleran girls held no fancy of mine, that the color looked good on her.

A low moan had my head snapping to the other form, curled and shivering hard under two more cloaks. I recognized that voice. I took a careful breath, keeping one eye on the girl, and struggled to keep hold of a sudden, wild anger mixed with fear. Tavi. My littermate, brother in all but blood. I watched the Fire-Furies flare higher, fed by my emotions, and Acacia cringed, whimpering and scared behind me, as I turned my hard gaze on the girl.

"What," I growled out, baritone a low, threatening growl, making her pale, her dark eyes widening as the ground rumbled slightly, "happened to Tavi?" I finished my question and took two steps toward my brother, carefully uncovering his head so I could look him over. The girl stared at me, wide-eyed, and I snarled at her, making her jump, startled. She was shivering, and I realized they both were frozen nearly through. I sighed and wrestled my anger away, begging for patience and finding it in Garados, one of the most temperamental, angry Furies I've ever met…

Oh, the Irony…

"W-we got caught in th-th-the st-st-storm," She managed through chattering teeth. I grunted, then, eying her, thought 'what the hell?' and smoothly stripped off my cloak, making her gasp. She stared at me, huge-eyed, and I bared my teeth at her in reply, eyes glinting, before I carefully unwrapped my 'older' brother and rewrapped him in the warm, magically-charmed Grizzly-bear cloak. He groaned in his unconscious state, and huddled deeper into it. I nodded and carefully pulled the doe-pelt from before from the pocket, and gathered the red cloaks of the statue-sentries. I paused, eying the girl, before grunting and snapping the cloaks out, the Air- and Fire-Furies of the Memorium drying them, and the pelt, without my having to ask. I calmly padded towards her, crouched while still a little ways away, and tossed the red cloaks and pelt to her, blank-faced as she watched me, clutching her knife and stalk-still.

Oh dear, I do believe I frightened the poor thing…

Yay for me.

"You're… You're a Canim," she whispered hoarsely. I nodded calmly, lips twitching.

"And you're an Aleran," I shot back, and then glanced at Tavi when he murmured my name in his sleep. My ears twitched, and I growled an order to Acacia without words. Obediently, she crawled over to curl against my littermate, curling against the warmth of my cloak and sighing, swiftly falling asleep. When my eyes moved back to the girl, she was wrapped in the two cloaks, and hesitantly clutching the pelt, unconsciously rubbing the smooth, soft leather of the skin. I watched her and huffed, lifting a claw to scratch firmly behind one of my ears. Her eyes fastened on me with a sharp, wary clarity that would have made me pause, but instead I took a deep breath, and watched her silently, unblinkingly.

"What's your name, Aleran-girl?" I asked abruptly; she flinched, startled, and stared at me, blinking. I had a feeling she was usually more alert and would have been faster with reactions then this, but the cold was getting to her, and her wounds, from the smell of her. I'd noticed some on Tavi when I'd shifted him, but I'd deal with his wounds later, when we were safely back home.

"Amara," she replied stiffly; I blinked and nodded, eyes going back to Tavi and Acacia's sleeping forms, and I fought back against my Canim and once-human emotions alike, and finally settled on something.

"I am Jael," I said calmly, not looking at her for a moment. "I thank you, for helping Tavi. He is very dear to me," I said, only now turning to look at her. I leaned closer, and said, very softly, a growl rumbling with my words, teeth just barely bared.

"If you do anything that puts him in harms way, I will make you beg for death long before I grant it," I promised, holding her eyes with my own, and continued softly, quietly, as my magic rolled playfully under my skin and begged to be let out. "No matter what or who your Master is." Standing abruptly, I padded towards Tavi and Acacia, and sat at the short boy's feet, staring into the fire silently, and tried to breath through the fear that had flooded my nose.

After several hours, I heard the storm start to lesson, and waited half-an-hour more before rising and lifting Amara from where she'd been sleeping in an uncomfortable kneeling position against the stone, using my magic to keep her asleep and unaware. I had threatened her, because when it came to Tavi, I would be the monster the holtfolk of Bernardholt thought me to be. When it came to Isana or Bernard, my temper was hot and fast to flare, but Tavi… With Tavi, it was icy cold, something that killed the inhibitions and brought clarity to the thoughts and senses. The kind of thing that would have allowed me to torture a child to an agonizing death, if that was what it took to protect him.

The man I'd once been, even after Azkaban, wouldn't have done such a thing. That man had been human. _Harry Potter_ had been a human. Jael, though, was not. I was Canim, and with that, came something different then those moralities that, in that life before, I had lived and killed by.

Now I had something new to live, kill, and die for. And it was curled up, unconscious, next to me in the skin of a bear I had killed with my own, bear hands, without magic or Furies…

Though, killing children still seemed quite a ways out of my zone at the moment. Adults? Sure, not much of a problem. Elderly, handicapped, and children, though… Well, time would tell…Unless I cut out its' tongue, of course…

Smiling, I turned my head, stared out the Memorium's entryway, and watched the sun rise, hidden, still, behind rain and sleet and storm clouds. My fur itched briefly and I sighed softly.

It seemed that the troubles were not yet over. I could only hope Tavi would survive them…

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

"And that's what happened," Tavi said hours later. "It all started with that one little lie. And all I wanted to do was to get those sheep back. Show my uncle that I could handle things without anyone's help. That I was independent and responsible." He picked up a rind from one of the bright orange fruits', and, scowling, threw it at the waters edge, before pulling my cloak tighter around him. I grunted, watching in amusement as Acacia went immediately to curiously sniff at the rind, to see if it was edible. My brother had finished telling his tale, and I smelled the truth on him, and wondered that he'd faced so much in a single night. He reminded me of myself, when I was Harry Potter, striving to prove himself against the disbelief and negativity of the world around him.

He made me proud, and I smiled slightly as I continued to sew the holes and tears of his shirt with a bone-made needle and some thread I always kept squirreled away for the occasion.

"You don't have any Furies at all?" Amara asked for the second time, voice still stunned. "None?" I snarled at her, and Tavi sent me a snarl back when the girl immediately cringed, startled. The sound of it made me huff but quiet down, eyes remaining focused on my sewing as he pulled my cloak closer. When he spoke, his voice was still harsh from the animalistic sound, and much more defensive then he probably meant it to be.

"That's right. So? I'm still a good herder. I'm the best apprentice in the Valley. Furies or not."

"Oh," Amara said quickly. "No, I didn't mean to-" I interrupted her, snorting.

"No one means to," I growled. "But they all do." Tavi nodded in stiff agreement, not looking at the girl.

"They look at me like I'm…crippled. Even though I can run. Like I'm blind, even though I can see. It doesn't matter _what_ I do, or how well I do it, everyone looks at me the same way." He shot her a glance, then, and said, "Like you are, right now." Amara frowned and rose, her torn skirts and cloak swaying about her ankles.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Tavi it's…unusual, I know. I've never heard of anyone with that problem before. But you're also young. It's possible that you just haven't grown into it yet." Oh, I knew where she was heading, and bit my tongue, smiling slowly. _Oh. Oh, Crows, she's going to say it, isn't she?_ I eagerly waited. "I mean, you're what? Twelve? Thirteen?" I burst into snickers and Tavi bared his teeth at me, grimacing.

"Fifteen," He mumbled, scowling. He threw an orange rind at me, and it bounced off my snout, making my snickers louder. "And Jael's _younger_ then me. _He's_ twelve." Amara blinked, startled, and eyed us both as I forced myself to quiet, an occasional snicker still escaping.

"I…see…" Amara managed, a little wide-eyed as she stared at me, then glanced at Tavi, before looking back at me. I could understand. I wasn't even a teenager yet, but I could tear a man in half with little effort on my part. Canim strength could be fun to exploit, you know…

"And you're worried about your service in the Legions." Amara continued; Tavi and I blinked at her, confused, and I absently paused in my sewing to scratch Acacia behind the ears.

"What service?" Tavi asked the slave. "I don't have any Furies. What are the Legions going to do with me? I won't be able to send signals, like the Aircrafters, hold the lines with the Earthcrafters, or attack with the Firecrafters. I won't be able to heal anyone with the Watercrafters. I can't forge a sword, or wield one like a Metalcrafter. I can't scout and hide, or shoot, like a Woodcrafter. And I'm small. I'm not even good for handing a spear and fighting in the ranks. What are they going to do with me?"

"No one will be able to question your courage, Tavi. You showed me that last night."

"Courage," Tavi sighed, shaking his head slightly at the slave. "As near as I can figure it, all courage gets you is more of a beating than if you'd run away."

"Sometimes that's important," Amara said; I agreed, snapping my teeth on the string to neatly cut it, before beginning on the next tear.

"Taking a beating?" Tavi asked, confused.

"Not running away," Amara clarified quietly. Tavi frowned but didn't say anything. Amara was silent for a few moments, before she sat down next to him, hugging the scarlet cloak around her as they absently listened and watched the rain through the entryway. Acacia laid her head on my right foot, as I remained crouched. I couldn't truly sit, you know, and be comfortable. Kneeling was out of the question, since I technically don't have knees, either. It was crouching, squatting, or an uncomfortable form of sitting in which I had to spread my legs and hunch forward between them…Well, if I had to sit on the ground, that is. I could sit on chairs and the like with little issue, as long as I sat the right way, and was careful, or else the back of my thighs became cramped, but still…

"What would you do, if you had a choice?" Amara asked in the sudden silence, obviously catching my brother off-guard. I blinked as he stared at her, startled.

"What?" He asked, head quirked to the side, a move that I recognized as something I, myself, did when confused or curious. A very canine move, and not usually seen on humans. I hid a smile and continued on with the next tear.

"If you could choose anything to do with your life. Anywhere to go," Amara said. "What would you do? Where would you go?"

"The Academy," Tavi said, at once; I nodded slightly, having seen that coming. "I'd go there. You don't have to be a 'crafter, there. You just have to be smart, and I am. I can read, and write, and do figures. My aunt taught me." Amara lifted her brows, curious and surprised.

"The Academy?" She asked; Tavi gave her a slightly stubborn look.

"It isn't just for Knights, you know," he told her. "They train legates there, and architects, and engineers. Counselors, musicians, artists. You don't have to be a skilled 'crafter to design buildings or argue law." I hid a smile as he got into his little speech and Amara nodded.

"Or you could be a Cursor," she said; Tavi wrinkled his nose in another one of my less-then-human-expressions, one side of his upper lip curling slightly to hint at teeth. An expression of disgust or irritation, or both. Then he snorted, and it was gone…

Maybe he was spending too much time with me, and too little time with other Alerans…?

"And spend my life delivering mail? How exciting could _that_ be?" Amara nodded, face sober and voice matching.

"Good point." My head snapped up, eyes narrowing on her, ears pricked forward. There was something…there. She smelled amused, and something else. Tired, but not in that I-want-to-go-to-sleep kind of way. More that here-we-go-again, frustrated kind of tired, as if she wanted to say something but knew she wouldn't get a word in edgewise…

What about the Cursor comment had caused _that_ sort of reaction, hmm? They were the First Lords messengers, his carrier pigeons, essentially… weren't they? A flash of the DA Galleon flashed into my mind. The communication devise that looked exactly like an ordinary coin. Something you'd pass up when searching pockets, you'd _expect__ to see_. Something ordinary to hide something used to pass secret messages…

Suddenly, a thought clicked, and my eyes narrowed on the "slave".

Oh, Crows.

Don't tell me she was a bloody _spy_…

"Out here, on the Steadhold," Tavi continued, swallowing as his voice and throat tightened, pulling my eyes from the strange, confusing slave-girl. "'Crafting keeps you alive. Literally. Back in the cities, it isn't as important. You can still be someone other than a freak. You can make your own life for yourself. The Academy is the only place in Alera where you can do that."

"Sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Amara remarked quietly, and I reluctantly turned my eyes back to my sewing, marveling at the sudden realization that I was a bloody _wolf-man_ and I was _sewing_…

I felt like ruddy Martha Stewart…

"My uncle saw it once, when his Legion was on review for the First Lord. He told me about it. And I've talked to soldiers on their way up to Garrison. Traders. Last spring, Uncle promised me that if I showed him enough responsibility, he'd give me a few sheep of my own. I figured out that if I took care of them and sold them next year, and saved up all my pay from the Legions, that I could put together enough money for a semester at the Academy."

"One semester?" Amara asked. "What then?" Tavi shrugged, and I finished his shirt and handed it to him. He gratefully smiled at me without showing teeth, dropped my cloak, and pulled it on, before pulling my cloak back up and continuing as he wriggled around, most-probably removing his pants so I could mend them for him as well.

"I don't know," he told her honestly, handing his pants over, and I immediately set to work on them, fingers moving smoothly. _Thank you, Aunt Petunia, and Ms. Isana, for teaching me the wonderful art of stitching,_ I thought absently as I worked. "Try to find some way to stay. I might be able to get someone to be a patron, or…I don't know. Something." Amara turned to look at him, and said, very calmly, very clearly.

"You're very brave, Tavi."

"My uncle will never give me the sheep, after this. If he's not dead." The words chocked him off, and he bowed his head, smelling of despair. I whined at the same time as Acacia, leaned over Amara, and nuzzled his head with my snout, hands never ceasing their steady sewing.

"Be steady, brother," I ordered soothingly, licking his head once, before pulling back. "Mr. Bernard is a strong 'crafter, a strong man. If anything, Ms. Isana will 'craft him right back into shape, and they're both probably worried sick for you right now, and mad as piss that you decided to hide out here in the storm…With a _girl_," I couldn't help teasing, grinning and giving Amara a wink as Tavi snorted, giving me a half-hearted glare.

"I'm sure he's alright, Tavi," Amara said, voice tinged with amusement as she glanced at me. Tavi nodded but said nothing, and eventually rubbed a fist furiously over his eyes, just as I smelt the tangy salt-smell of tears, mixed with anguish. My ears flinched back and I kept my eyes on my sewing silently, knowing what he was thinking.

If the impossible happened, and Bernard _did_ succumb to his wound before Isana could help him… How could we face Isana again, knowing that? Tavi was probably guilt-ridden by the very thought, and I stifled a low whine, hunching closer to my work.

I was never good at comforting people when I was a human. Now? All my instincts were less-than-comfortable for the Aleran's, though Tavi would be used to it, but not in front of Amara. All I could do was hope she would say something to distract him.

"At least you're alive," she pointed out, quietly, setting a hand on his shoulder. "That's nothing to take lightly, given what you went through yesterday. You survived."

"I get the feeling that when I get back home, I'm going to wish I hadn't," Tavi muttered; I grunted, amused now, as well as relieved. The anguished-guilty-despair smell was going away. _Good._ Tavi blinked away his tears and summoned up a smile for Amara, and she returned it readily enough.

"Can I ask you something?" The slave asked; I was tempted to use the whole _you just did, but go ahead and ask something else_ reply, but instead just bit the string off and started the next, final tear as Tavi shrugged and gave his consent. "Why endanger what you'd been working toward? Why did you agree to help Beritte if you knew it could cause problems for you?" I smirked and waited for his answer. Oh, I knew whatever he said wouldn't be the whole truth, and wanted to see what he came up with anyways… It was so amusing, my brothers brain. Twisty like a maze…

…

Gah.

Nevermind, I _hate_ mazes…

Stupid Tri-Wizard Tournament…

"I didn't think it would," Tavi began immediately; voice plaintive, and my smirk grew. Oh, this would be _good_… "I mean, I thought I could have done it all. It wasn't until nearly the end of the day that I realized I was going to have to pick between getting all the sheep in and those hollybells, and I'd promised her."

"Ah," Amara said, but her expression remained dubious, and when she glanced at me, I gave her a waggle of my eyebrows and snickered as Tavi's cheeks colored. He looked down when she looked back at him.

"All right," he sighed. "She kissed me, and my brains melted and dribbled out my ears." I barked out a laugh, and Tavi sent me a dirty look while Amara grinned slightly.

"Now _that_, I can believe," the slave remarked, stretching out a foot to flick idly at the waters surface with her toes. Silence reigned as I finished Tavi's pants and handed them to him, watching without bothering to hide my amusement as he scrabbled to put them on under my cloaks cover. I turned and, without bothering to ask, began to calmly sew Amara's skirts, ignoring her awkward frown as she watched me.

"What about you, Jael?" She asked after a few minutes of just watching me. I grunted at her, an ear twitching towards her, eyes fastened on where I was repairing her clothes. "Where would you go, what would you do, if you could do anything or go anywhere? To Canea? Your peoples land?" she asked with genuine curiosity. I paused and looked up at her, emerald-turquoise eyes narrowing thoughtfully as I stared at her unassuming face.

Yes…

I could see her as a spy…

"No," I said, dropping my eyes back to my work. I was silent, frowning for a second, thinking about the question. After a minute had passed, I decided to answer honestly. "I think… I think I would go with Tavi. To the Academy. Not necessarily as a student, mind you. I don't think they'd be fond of a Cane running about, uncollared, without someone holding my leash." I bared my fangs and Acacia growled lowly, eyes half-lidded and sleepy. My tail thumped once in her direction and she yawned, and obediently closed her eyes, going back to sleep. "I would merely be an…Observer, I suppose. I _could_ be a student, if I wanted to," I admitted idly. Tavi nodded, with a small grin of warmth as he reappeared from where he'd been tangled inside my cloak, hair disheveled.

"Unlike me, Jael _does_ have Furies," he told Amara with pride, and I ducked my head slightly under her startled, wide-eyed gaze. "And he's the best bloody Woodcrafter in existence, if you ask anybody on our Steadhold. My uncle can never find him, neither my aunt, and their both powerful 'crafters. _No one can_, ever, unless he wants them to find him, that is. _And_ he can control the Great Furies like they're child's play." Amara was now staring at me in gaping shock and, with some exasperated amusement; I reached up and shucked her chin, making her mouth shut with a sharp _click_ sound. I chuckled as she shook her head and stuttered, but interrupted her easily, snapping my teeth on the string and moving to the next tear.

"But I'm not interested in your Aleran jobs. Maybe, one day, I'll go to Canea. Try to find blood-relatives, to see if I have family alive. I honestly doubt it, and if I do," I smirked suddenly, baring teeth in an animalistic, bloodthirsty show of fangs. "I'm sure they'll be _delighted_ to find a so-called family member who just _happens_ to show up…" I shrugged, and kept my eyes on my stitching, shifting on my paws a bit to get more comfortable. "But honestly? I'm more likely to just follow Tavi about like a stalker-puppy, and make sure he doesn't get himself killed by bigoted idiots who don't understand a clever mind and fast body can get you out of some situations that Furies just _can't_." I glanced up at her, to see how she took that, and saw she was still in a bit of a state of shock. Amused, I went back to sewing as she slowly got herself under control. It took a few minutes, but soon enough, she was back to the composed Amara we'd gotten to know.

"What about you?" Tavi asked her suddenly, head cocking in that canine curious/confused way again. If he'd had puppy ears, they'd have perked forward.

The picture…was rather adorable, come to think of it…

Amara tried to copy the gesture, but ended up exposing too much throat, and looking submissive towards Tavi. I bit back a rumble at that and Tavi, recognizing the unknowing body language, gave me a quick, stern glance.

I kept steadily sewing.

"What do you mean?" Amara asked. Tavi shrugged and turned his attention from me to her, gaze a bit uncertain now.

"I've been doing all the talking, with Jael every now and again. You haven't said a thing about yourself. Slaves don't usually wander around this far from the road. Or a Steadholt. All alone. I figured that, uh, you must have run away."

"No," The young Aleran woman said firmly. "But I _did_ get lost in the storm. I was on my way to Garrison, to deliver a message for my master." _Lie,_ I smelled, but only in a strange way, and definitely on the last part. She _had_ gotten lost in the storm, and _was_ on her way to Garrison. Maybe even to deliver a message. All I knew, is this girl had no _master_. She may have a Lord, but no master, nor Master. I narrowed my eyes and snapped the string, moving on to the next hole. And something else wasn't adding up with her tale… Tavi squinted up at her, frowning slightly.

"He just sent you out like that? A woman? Alone?"

"I don't question his orders, Tavi. I just obey them." _Lie_, I thought, without having to scent it on her. Even the most hardened slave questions their Master's orders, at one time or another. Going out into the wilderness to take a _message_ to Garrison, with a Furystorm on the rise? That was a time you questioned, no doubt.

"Well, okay, I guess," Tavi said, frowning but nodding as well, letting it pass. "But, do you think you could come along with me? Maybe talk to my uncle? He could make sure you got to Garrison safely. Get you a hot meal, some warmer clothes." I smiled faintly, and Amara did to, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

"That's a very polite way of taking someone prisoner, Tavi." I looked up at her and grinned, barring my teeth.

"If you want, I can go the very _un_polite way, and just knock you out and drag you along with us anyways. I can carry a Grizzly bear carcass fifteen miles without stopping to rest, and still have the strength to carry it back again," I told her as she stared at me, suddenly very still and smelling of wariness and a hint of fear. I breathed it in obviously, and my smile widened when her lips thinned, her previous smile gone.

"Jael!" Tavi snapped, glaring at me when I looked at him, blinking. "I am your older brother, and ahead of you in the pack. You will _not_ threaten Amara again, understand?" I huffed, ears pinning back as I scowled at him, but when his own scowl met mine, I turned my head, and nodded, while showing him some of my throat. I could beat Tavi, easily, and take his place as next in line. I could do that to Isana and Bernard as well, but…

I trusted them; far more then I trusted myself, with my inability to fully control my bloodthirsty urges and animalistic demands. It was _hard_, okay? And I couldn't even _imagine_ what a Canim's _puberty_ was like… Tavi turned apologetic eyes on Amara, and I went back to sewing, grumbling quietly under my breath in Canim. I was almost done, anyways…

"Sorry about him," he told her. "I won't let him do that to you. But, Amara, seriously. I'm sorry, especially since you probably saved my life and all. But, if you _are_ a runaway slave, and I don't do something about it, the law could come back to hurt my uncle." You know, when he ducked his head down like that, and peered up at you with huge eyes, he looked like a kicked puppy…

Not that anyone was kicking any puppies on _my_ watch, thank-you-very-much! I'd steal their Crows-begotten foot…

And then eat them.

Alive.

"I understand," Amara said, recovered from my scare. "I'll come with you." I flicked my ears towards the door as I finished the last stitch, and calmly snapped the string, wrapping the rest back around the small wooden stool and inserting the needle in the small hole in the middle. Rain had stopped, by the sound of it.

"Thank you," Tavi said, glancing towards the door, before standing and reluctantly handing me my cloak, picking up the scarlet cloak he'd been sitting on and wrapping that around himself instead. "Come on. Sounds like the rains stopped; do you think it's safe to go?" Amara frowned and looked outside for a moment, face thoughtful.

"I doubt it's going to get any safer if we wait. We should get back to your Steadholt, before the storm gets bad again."

"You think it will?" he asked, then shook his head. "Jael?" he asked instead, glancing at me. I nodded.

"Oh, aye, brother-mine," I said, smiling slightly as I settled my cloak once more on my shoulders. "It'll get bad again. Lady Lilvia's not done playing her tune, and you know how sweet Lord Garados is on his wife. Ever the doting husband," I winked as the ground rumbled around us, making the two Alerans look up at the ceiling warily. I chuckled, reached down, and patted the ground affectionately as Acacia stretched and waddled to my side, panting happily.

"Alright," Tavi acknowledged, frowning now at Amara. "Are you going to be all right, walking?" We all glanced at her foot at the question. Her ankle was swollen around a purpling bruise. I frowned, tempted to heal her, but going against it. If the 'slave' _was_ a spy, perhaps it was best if she had an injury that would inhibit her ability to flee.

I could always carry her down the brief steep slopes that were between us and the quickest way to Bernardholt.

"It's just my ankle, not the rest of the foot," Amara grimaced. "It hurts, but if I'm careful I should be all right."

"Okay then," Tavi said, heaving himself to his feet, grunting as his muscles and wounds protested. He'd gotten pretty banged up, running through the forest as he'd done, and it showed beneath his clothing, in bruises, scrapes, scratches, and tensed, painful muscles. "I guess it isn't going to get any easier."

"I guess not," Amara muttered, letting out a small, pained sound that made me stifle a hungry sound of my own. Damn it, she sounded like prey, for a moment there… "Well. We make a fine pair of traveling companions, with the Cane and his pregnant wolf to guide us too." She glanced at me and nodded, wincing as she started towards the door, hobbling. "Lead the way."

Huffing in amusement, Acacia and I shared a look, before we brushed past the golden-skinned Aleran and obediently led the way.

**(()_(() PAGE BREAK! ())_()) **

I ended up having to carry both Amara and Tavi down the steep hills, and added Acacia to the load when we met a ravine. I was _not_ risking the pregnant Direwolf's health for something so simple, and made the two Alerans hold onto me with their arms. But we reached the causeway with little trouble elsewise, the two clinging tiredly to my back like small children, the wolf at my side, and my head covered by my hood.

We'd walked no more than an hour down the causeway, though, before the ground rumbled, and the wild Furies brought to me the familiar 'taste' of Brutus, the Hound-shaped Fury of Bernard. I sighed and sent out one of my regular Furies, an old Earth-Fury I'd taken to calling Gaia, to pass on the news of myself, Tavi, Acacia, and Amara, and told Tavi of it as I continued to calmly walk, nose lifted to scent the wind small Furies brought me. I frowned slightly, ignoring the conversation the two Alerans had on my back as I took in the Steadholders emotions when he appeared around a curve in the road.

He was angry, a bit confused, but mostly angry.

"Uncle!" Tavi finally cried, as I lowered both him and Amara from my back, and threw himself at my Alpha, wrapped his arms as far as they could go. Bernard's face, though, as I watched, while relieved, remained slightly distant and cold. Something was wrong, badly wrong, and I frowned, stiff. "Thank the Furies. I was so afraid that you'd been hurt." Bernard laid a hand on Tavi's shoulder, and I watched a small amount of tension leave him, but only a little. Then he gently, firmly, pushed Tavi back and away from him. Tavi blinked up at him, face suddenly uncertain, voice timid,

"Uncle?" He asked hesitantly. "Are you alright?"

"No," Bernard rumbled, voice hard, and his scent changed at Tavi's tone. Some of the anger left, and I couldn't really name the emotion that replaced it. "I was hurt. So were others, because I was out chasing sheep with you." My ears perked forward, and I frowned harder, suddenly straightening.

What the bloody Crows had happened?

"But Uncle," Tavi started; Bernard waved a hand, interrupting, voice hard but not angry.

"You didn't mean it. I know. But because of your mischief, some of my folk came to grief. Your aunt nearly died. We're going home." I took a soft breath. So, that was it. Isana had been endangered…

Well, it explained some things, for certain.

"Yes, sir," Tavi said softly.

"I'm sorry to do it, but you can forget about those sheep, Tavi," Bernard continued seriously. "It appears that there are some things you aren't swift to learn after all."

"But what about—" Tavi began.

"Peace," Bernard growled, a warning anger entering his tone. Tavi and I both cringed, and I scented tears on the boy. "It's done," Bernard said firmly, and turned his glower from Tavi to Amara. "Who the Crows are you?" He demanded. Neither Tavi nor I looked up from the ground, my ears pinned to my head, at the ruffle of Amara's skirts as she curtsied.

"My name is Amara, sir. I was carrying a message for my master, from Riva to Garrison. I became lost in the storm. The boy found me. He saved my life sir." I saw Tavi lift his head, and glance hopefully at Bernard. "And Jael found us both during the storm last night as well, and helped keep us safe." I didn't bother to look up, keeping my body hunched and my eyes down. I was in my Old Man pose, curled up as if in pain, and I wasn't about to straighten if all I was going to get was hit…

Not that Bernard had ever hit me, but there's a first time for everything…

And not all hit's came in the form of a physical nature.

"You were out in that? Fortune favors fools and children," Bernard said, as if quoting someone, and I recognized the words as something Old Bitte would say. He grunted. "You're a runaway, are you?"

"No, sir."

"We'll see," he replied calmly. "Come with me, lass. Don't run. If I have to track you down or send Jael after you, I'll get irritable."

"Yes, sir." Bernard nodded at her and frowned at me and Tavi, his voice hardening.

"When we get home, boys, you're to go to your rooms and stay there until I decide what to do with you. Understand?" Instantly, we both nodded, rather startled by Bernard's tone towards Tavi.

The boy had lost something he'd never known he'd held: Bernard's respect. Me? I was respected in a way all dangerous animals were respected. With distance and a firm hand. Tavi, though… Well, I never begrudged my brother his uncle's kindness and love.

Tears scented the air sharply as Tavi once more lowered his eyes, and only Bernard's impatient snarl of his name had him stumbling forward. Amara limped lightly after him; the rest my carrying her had given her had helped. I brought up the rear, uncertain as to what to do, until Bernard looked back at me.

"Jael," He barked; I padded past the slave-girl and my bowed littermate, crouching hesitantly near my Alpha as he glowered down at me. "Run on ahead. You're to go to your den, understood?" I nodded quickly.

"Yes, Mr. Bernard," I said quietly, in case a verbal response was required. I didn't know where to stand with this new, harsh Bernard. And neither did Tavi. I hesitated in following his orders, uncertain about leaving my brother in his hands, and turned my gaze on Tavi. Bernard glowered harder, but Tavi's whisper, almost too quiet for even my intense hearing to catch, had me obeying his command.

"It's okay, Jael," he'd whispered, but, loping ahead with Acacia, the world blurring around me as I did, I couldn't help but disagree. Something had happened; something bad, and the itching of my fur said it would only get worse.

No, Tavi…

Okay was a far, far away daydream.

**A/N:** Ah, a chapter far longer then normal…

TO STAVE OFF BOREDOM!  
_**R&R**_


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